The Cost of Betrayal
by thekidsarentalright01
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow had been a lot of things: fearsome pirate, lover of adventure, the quickest of wits, but never once had he considered himself a fool. He thought she loved him. In fact, he knew she loved him. But then again, she was a pirate—even if she didn't consider herself one. Elizabeth Swann had returned to save him, but would he ever be able to forgive her?


She felt inexplicably cold. One might even venture as far as to call it freezing. It was well over ninety degrees outside, with the midday sun beating down and nearly one hundred percent humidity; yet, as it were, Elizabeth was cold—so much so that she shivered a little.

Captain Jack Sparrow was dead. She killed him. She watched the light leave his eyes before he was dead—the knowledge she had betrayed him shattered his heart into so many pieces that when the Kraken came there was nothing left for it to break. His life meant nothing if she did not want to be in it, his body an empty vessel for a soul that had departed the moment he heard that shackle click shut around his wrist.

Captain Jack Sparrow had been a lot of things: fearsome pirate, lover of adventure, the quickest of wits, but never once had he considered himself a fool. He thought she loved him. In fact, he _knew _she loved him. But then again, she was a pirate—even if she didn't consider herself one.

In the three months Jack was gone, it seemed Elizabeth did not sleep. She barely ate, and the food she did eat came right back up and over the railings of the ship. She was consumed with guilt; it was eating her alive from the inside out. Her beautiful face was wrought with what appeared to be physical pain. Dark, permanent circles formed under her eyes. A weight on her chest settled and proceeded to silently suffocate her, never lifting. Her skin lost its glow, her eyes lost their luster, her personality snuffed out like a fire in a hurricane.

When they told her there was a way to bring Jack back from the dead, she said yes without hesitation. Whatever condition he was in, she didn't care. She needed to see him again. Everyone had their personal reasons for wanting to save him, but Elizabeth felt hers was the most selfish. She could not live with this pain.

Even William Turner had sensed it, and try as he may, he could not fix her. When he died protecting her on their journey to World's End, his last words were of his love for Elizabeth and his only wish: that she be happy.

The death of Will had deepened Elizabeth's depression; her childhood best friend was gone. She felt as if she was alone in this world, and now more than ever, she yearned to see Captain Jack Sparrow's ridiculous half grin just one last time. She needed to feel his hand brush against the exposed skin of her lower back, wanted to argue with him in that entertaining way that only they could enjoy, hoped to one day be able to apologize for all that she had done.

_All that she had done_. What exactly was Elizabeth supposed to say? "Sorry I kissed you and left you to die, but I still love you." It didn't seem like words would be able to express her feelings. And what was she feeling? Regret, dread, pain, pain, so much pain. It was as if a piece of her had been taken away. His last word to her always echoing—pirate, pirate, pirate.

She hoped that maybe, in some profoundly unrealistic scenario, Jack would have missed her as much as she had him. She would see him, he would be as robust and beautiful as ever, and they would run to each other, embracing. He would twirl her around and they would collapse together in the sand, much like that first night they spent together on the deserted beach. All would be forgiven. They would live happily ever after.

But real life is not a fairy tale.

When they arrived to rescue him, Captain Jack Sparrow looked better than ever. He was still his normal self, minus the alcohol. He was not at all surprised to see the rescue group that had been cobbled together; he almost seemed as if he had expected them.

Elizabeth did not run to him. He did not jump for joy or rush towards her. They did not embrace. In fact, she had stood there, rooted in place. She felt the weight that had been on her chest lift temporarily, only to settle back down again. He only said that she had succeeded in killing him—nothing more, nothing less. She wondered if he knew how she felt. And when he was finally on the ship for the return journey, she tried to apologize.

"Jack, please, I…" had barely stumbled out of her mouth as he walked past her, acting as if she were nothing but a ghost.

As night came and Elizabeth lay in her hammock, attempting to sleep, she prayed for a chance. A chance to speak to the man she loved, a chance that had she been gifted the opportune moment, she would find the words to make everything alright. She _had_ to find the right words.

In her two hours of sleep, she dreamt that Jack pretended to forgive her, only to drive his sword through her heart as they made love. When she was jolted awake, Elizabeth was disappointed it was only a dream; if he were to kill her, they would finally be even.

Elizabeth did not know that when Jack had seen her for the first time, he too, wanted to embrace her. He wanted to feel her kissing him again, her soft lips gently pressing against his. He had dreamed of it for months. And when she stopped him on the deck of the ship, he wanted to tell her never to apologize for being selfless, that she was not a pirate but a martyr for sacrificing the only thing she loved in order to save everyone else. But he didn't, because he knew that if he did, losing her again would be something even Captain Jack Sparrow could not recover from.

It was not until the third day that they were forced to speak to each other. As the dignified Elizabeth Swann stood heaving her guts into the ocean for what seemed like the millionth time, shivering cold in the bright of day, Captain Jack Sparrow approached her.


End file.
